


Talking

by kforsyth716



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Brain Damage, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kforsyth716/pseuds/kforsyth716
Summary: An AU to the latest episode in which the bank robbers leave Mac behind at the bank with a bullet wound as a parting gift.





	1. Chapter 1

“Carlos, where’s Mac?”   
“They took him downstairs!”   
Jack almost fell down the stairs he was moving so fast. He thought about slowing down, making sure, graceful movements like he had been trained. But this was Mac and he couldn’t hear anything from downstairs and that was bad, really bad, because Mac never, ever shut up. The kid didn’t always talk, but he was always making noise, either tapping his feet or fiddling with something. A quiet Mac meant something was wrong.   
He rounded the corner, eyes slipping over the massive hole in the floor, brain simultaneously processing and ignoring the disappearance of the robbers, because he had been goddamn right.   
A quiet Mac meant something was wrong.   
“Mac!” Jack called, running over to the other man’s body on the floor. Blood pooled beneath Mac’s torso from a bullet wound in his chest and his eyes flitted from Jack to the other SWAT team members, not recognizing anyone.   
“Hey, bud.” Jack said. “You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”   
Mac’s eyes switched to Jack and widened a little. His lips parted to speak, but only a wet gasp escaped.   
“Don’t talk, okay?” Jack said, pressing down on the wound hard enough to make Mac try and curl away from him with a muffled scream. “Sorry, bud. I’m sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding.”   
Mac didn’t respond, just stared at Jack blankly and gasped for air.   
Behind him, Jack could hear someone calling for paramedics.   
“Help’s on the way, man.” Jack said. “Just hang in there.”   
Mac’s right hand came up to Jack’s bloody ones and for a second, Jack thought he was trying to hold onto Jack.   
Until Mac tried shoving him away.   
“Woah, bud. It’s just me, just Jack.” Jack said, smacking Mac’s hand away. “You need to let me keep pressure on this wound.”   
But Mac shook his head, breath coming in wild, panicked gasps and Jack swallowed hard.   
“Mac, you know who I am, right?” He said and swore when Mac just blinked at him.   
A SWAT team member kneeled down next to Jack and took over keeping pressure on the wound. Jack reached for Mac’s head, trying to see if a head wound was the cause of his sudden amnesia, but the new set of hands or maybe Jack’s probing set Mac off.   
He screamed, trying to curl away from them, hands scrabbling to get theirs away from him.   
“Go away!” He said. “Go away!”   
“Mac, it’s okay!” Jack said, abandoning the hunt for a head wound in favor of grabbing Mac’s shoulders and pressing them against the floor to keep his partner still.   
“No! Let go!” Mac said, fighting Jack’s grip. “Please! Let go!”   
“Mac, you’re safe, bud.” Jack said, leaning over the other man a little so he could look Mac in the eye. “Just breathe, okay?”   
But Mac shook his head and tried to buck Jack off.   
“No! Let go!” He said and slammed his head into the floor, either by a accident or on purpose Jack couldn’t tell, but it was hard enough to stun him into silence.   
Footsteps behind Jack told him the paramedics were here.   
Shit.   
“Mac, the paramedics are here, okay?” Jack said. “You need to stay still to let them do their job.”   
Mac blinked at him and gasped for air.   
Jack got shoved back a second later as paramedics swarmed Mac. They started yelling stats and words Jack knew but couldn’t unravel under the sound of Mac panicking.   
“NO! LET GO!” He screamed.   
“Mac, it’s okay, bud.” Jack called, curling his hands into tight fists to keep himself from shoving aside a paramedic to get to Mac.   
Mac kept screaming until a paramedic stuck a needle in his arm and he fell silent.   
Jack hated it.   
The silence.   
Mac’s silence.   
His kid was quiet sometimes, but never silent. There was always some noise, some movement, something to tell Jack he was still alive…

24 hours later…   
Jack swallowed hard before walking into Mac’s hospital room. The kid looked… not dead, because his heavily bandaged chest heaved itself up and down in a rhythmic enough motion for Jack to assure himself the kid was still alive… but he still looked wrong.   
Still, silent, and grey.   
All things Angus MacGyver was not.   
“Hey, bud.” Jack said and took a seat next to Mac’s bed. “Doc says you’re going to wake up soon.”  
The robbers had been caught trying to escape Puerto Rico at the marina and Jack knew Mattie was unleashing her full wrath against them, but it took every bit of self-restraint Jack had to keep himself from hunting those bastards down and putting a bullet in each of their heads.   
Mac wouldn’t like that, Jack knew, so he stayed seated.   
“Bozer and Riley are getting some shut-eye, but I couldn’t sleep that well so I thought I’d come hang out with you for a bit. See if my awesome presence wakes you up.”   
He had told the doctors about Mac’s amnesia but he hadn’t mentioned it to the others yet. No need to inspire the same panic in them that was burning his chest like he had been the one to get shot.   
“The doctor said you might… might have some brain damage when you wake up from that goddamn head wound. I told her not to worry too much because brain damage will probably just bring you down to a mere mortal intelligence level. Hey, I might actually be able to understand half the gibberish coming out of your mouth.” Jack said, forcing himself to chuckle a little, even when the idea of a Mac who couldn’t babble on about thermo-whatever or the rate at which cats grow (who knows what was in that kid’s brain?) made Jack’s heart stutter.   
“But, uh, even if you do and even if it’s bad, we’ll be with you every step of the way, all right?” Jack continued. “I just need you to wake up first.”   
Mac stayed still, silent, and grey.   
Jack’s head dropped into his hands and his lungs scrabbled for oxygen. He hated this… this waiting piece. He couldn’t do anything to help Mac except sit and wait. When the kid woke up, there would be a thousand and one things to do between physical therapy, handling medications, making sure Mac took a goddamn break for once in his life, and ensuring the kid’s well-being.   
“I’m sorry, bud.” Jack said. “I should have stopped you or… or waited to bring the SWAT team in… or…”   
‘Or what, Jack?’ Mac’s voice rang in his head. ‘Develop the ability to see into the future? Design a time machine? This isn’t your fault, big guy.’   
Jack growled to himself and shook his head.   
He couldn’t listen to that voice, not when its owner might wake up and not know to call him ‘big guy’ or call him out when he was spiraling into a guilt trip or-.  
“Jack.”   
His head snapped up so he could grin at Mac’s bleary eyes.   
“Hey, bud.” He said. “Glad to see you’re awake.”   
Mac just blinked.   
“You’re Jack.” He said. “You said…”   
Mac’s face contorted. Jack could see he was struggling for words and his eyes slid shut for half a moment.   
Maybe the drugs were just slowing him down.   
Maybe.   
“Yeah, I’m Jack.” Jack said. “Do you remember me?”   
Mac nodded.   
“You were… holding…” His hands jerked up to his shoulders. “And you…”   
He frowned and rubbed his forehead with one hand.   
Like he was coming up some life-saving plan.   
“You… Sunny.” Mac said and his eyes snapped to Jack’s. “Sandbox.”   
“Yeah, bud. We met in the Sandbox.” Jack said. “You remember anything else?”   
Mac nodded.   
“Stayed.” He said and opened his mouth to keep going, but shut it a second later and just nodded like that one word explained everything.   
And maybe it did.   
Jack grinned a little at the recognition in Mac’s eyes.   
“Glad I’m so rememberable, bud.” He said. “How are you feeling?”  
Mac scanned the room first and his hands fidgeted in his lap.   
“Fast.” He said and tapped his forehead. “Can’t… Fast… Jack… Help…”   
Mac’s hand pressed against his head and he twisted to face Jack with wide, panicked eyes.   
“It’s okay, bud.” Jack said. “You took a hard hit to the head, okay? But we’ll sort it out, just like always.”   
But Mac’s panic didn’t subside and his chest jerked up and down s he tried to breathe.   
“No… Jack… Too fast… Can’t slow… Jack, Jack, can’t… Too fast… Please, help….”   
“Bud, you gotta take a deep breath.” Jack said and grabbed Mac’s hands as they pried at the bandage at the back of his head. “Leave that alone.”   
“No!” Mac said, jerking away from Jack. “Mouth won’t… Too fast!”   
“I know the thoughts are going too fast in your head, bud.” Jack said. “Just take some deep breaths and they’ll slow down, okay?”   
Mac gasped for air and shook his head, eyes clenched shut   
“Fix… Fix it…” He said between rapid, short breaths. Jack’s eye caught on the heart monitor and the rising bpm.   
“Mac, we can fix it later.” Jack said, but Mac ignored him and kept muttering broken words to himself, hands rising to pull the nasal cannula away from his face.   
“No, bud.” Jack said and batted his hands away. Mac’s eyes snapped open to stare at Jack in surprise.   
“It’s helping you breathe.” Jack explained and Mac’s eyes started drifting away. “No, hold on just a sec and look at me.”   
Mac shook his head and kept murmuring to himself.   
“Mac, c’mon, look at me.” Jack said and smiled when Mac’s gaze shifted to him.   
“I know you’re worried about not being able to talk properly, I am too, but you do not get to shut me out, got it?” Jack warned. “I am not going anywhere, no matter how much damage there is, okay? I’m going to be right here the whole time and you better get used to it.”   
Mac frowned a little, eyes distrusting for a moment. But Jack held his gaze and raised an eyebrow, daring Mac to challenge him.   
Then, Mac grinned a little and nodded.   
“Helicopter.” He said.   
“Damn right I’m a helicopter parent.” Jack said. “ And if you think I’m letting you out of my sight for the next ten years, at least, you’re more than just brain-damaged. You’re straight up insane.”   
Mac laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack knew it was going to get worse before it got better.   
He just hadn’t realized quite how much worse.   
“Hey, Mac!” He yelled, letting himself in the front door. No response, not that he had expected one.   
Mac’s inability to talk properly led him to not talk at all.   
Or communicate.   
“Mac, where are you, man?” Jack called, checking the porch for his friend.   
Nothing.   
He sighed and crossed the deck to Mac’s room, where Mac was, per usual, asleep. Except, per usual, the kid wasn’t asleep in his bed like a normal person.   
No, Mac was curled up in his stupid closet.  
Jack crouched in front of his friend, frowning at the bones protruding through his shirt. The kid didn’t work out as much as he used to, but he didn’t eat either so he had lost weight and muscle mass since the shooting.   
“Mac, bud, wake up.” Jack said, knowing better than to shake his friend awake.   
Mac jolted back into the land of the living and gaped at Jack, blinking rapidly and shaking his head a little while his hands curled into fists. Jack blocked the first punch with ease and shoved aside the leg Mac threw at him.   
“Bud, it’s just Jack.” He said and Mac froze, studying Jack’s face for a few minutes before nodding and curling back in on himself.   
“Bad night, huh?” Jack said.   
Mac shrugged.   
“Pain or PTSD?” Jack said and earned another shrug. He sighed and glanced around at the messy room. Normally, Mac kept everything in order.   
Normal was pretty relative nowadays.   
“Why don’t we head to a diner or something and get some grub?” Jack said. “You’re skin and bones, man.”   
Mac shook his head.   
“Okay.” Jack said. “But you need to eat something other than a granola bar.”   
Mac shot a glare at him.   
“I’m serious, man.” Jack said. “You’re going to pass out or something if you don’t eat.”   
Mac glanced away and Jack’s shoulders crumbled.   
“You already did, didn’t you?” He said.   
Mac shook his head, but his teeth dug into his lip. For a former spy, Mac sucked at lying. To Jack, at least.   
“You get dizzy?” Jack said and Mac nodded. “Is that why you’re still in here at one in the afternoon?”   
Mac nodded again.   
“Why didn’t you text me or Bozer?” Jack said and Mac shrugged, making Jack drop his head. “Bud, I need you a little more than a shrug here.”   
Mac shot him a glare.   
Jack knew why the kid hadn’t texted; he couldn’t type well anymore so it would have been a jumbled mess of broken syllables that could mean anything. Mac hated, hated, his inability to communicate no matter how many times Jack told him it wasn’t his fault, he shouldn’t be ashamed, and frankly, none of his friends cared if he couldn’t talk or type. He was still the smartest guy they knew, even if it wasn’t as obvious as before.   
“Okay, well you got speech therapy in half an hour so let’s find some food for you and…” Jack trailed off when Mac shook his head.   
“You have to go.” Jack said.   
Mac frowned at him.   
“I will drag you there if I have to.” Jack said and Mac heaved a sigh before scrunching himself further into the corner and pressing his face into his knees that were curled against his chest. For the first time, Jack noticed his trembling hands and the slight tremors rocking his body.   
Really bad night then.   
“Okay, bud.” Jack said. “You think you can handle some crackers if I bring them in here?”   
Mac shrugged, which Jack decided was as close as he was to getting a ‘yes’ today. He stood up and hurried into the kitchen, digging the box of saltine crackers out of the pantry. He made a note to tell Bozer this was the last box in there and considering it was the only thing Mac would eat some days, it was kind of imperative they had it in stock at all times. Next, he texted Mac’s therapist, letting him know Mac wasn’t coming in today. Finally, he called Bozer.   
“Hey, Jack. How’s my man?” Bozer said upon picking up.   
“Bad.” Jack said and Bozer sighed on the other end of the line.   
“I was afraid of that.” He said.   
“How was last night?” Jack said, pacing in the family room.   
“He didn’t scream or anything, but I’m not sure he slept. I checked on him this morning and he wouldn’t leave that damn closet, but made me promise not to text you.” Bozer said.   
“Bozer…” Jack sighed. “You can’t-.”   
“He’s not an invalid, Jack.” Bozer interrupted. “He can take care of himself.”   
“Really?” Jack said. “Because I’m not sure he can right now. I know he’s still Mac, but he’s… he’s strugglin’.”   
“Yeah, but us treating him like a little kid won’t help.” Bozer said and Jack muttered a goodbye before hanging up.  
Bozer had a point, but so did Jack. For right now, Mac needed them to take care of him, even if that meant going against his wishes.   
Jack gathered up a bunch of pillows and the biggest blanket he could find before snagging his laptop out of his bag and returning to Mac’s room. Mac didn’t move when Jack set the pillows on the ground, plugged his laptop in, and covered Mac with the blanket.   
“What do you feel like watching today?” Jack said, surfing through his Netflix account for the least violent movie he could think of.   
Mac didn’t respond, just kept trembling.   
“Okay, bud.” Jack said. “Planet Earth it is.”   
David Attenborough’s voice lulled Mac to sleep pretty quickly. Or else exhaustion from not sleeping the previous night finally caught up to him.   
Either way, Jack counted it as a win.


	3. Chapter 3

Mac vomited three times on the way back from the hospital the next day and Jack hated himself more each time they had to pull over. Then, he had to help Mac inside and onto the couch because the kid was shaking so badly, his legs couldn’t carry his own weight.   
Mac crashed onto the couch, pressing the heels of hands into his eyes and swallowing deep breaths of air. Tension rippled off his body and his fingers kept curling and uncurling above his eyes. Jack gave him some room, left a book by the couch, and then retreated to the porch.   
He dozed off and woke up when Mac started screaming.   
Wordless, terrified screams of someone caught in hell.   
Jack popped to his feet and rushed into the family room, where Mac was thrashing on the couch, one hand clutching his chest.   
“Mac!” Jack said. “Mac, wake up!”   
Mac gasped for air and his eyes popped open, spinning around the room before locking on Jack.   
“Hey, bud.” Jack said.   
Mac just blinked.   
“You think you can sit up?” Jack said. “Take some meds?”   
Mac nodded, but didn’t move, so Jack had to help him into a sitting position. Then, he got a glass of water and Mac’s as-needed anxiety medication, handing one pill and the water to Mac, who, thankfully, swallowed both without argument.   
Jack sat down on the couch next to Mac, unsurprised when Mac curled into a ball with his face pressed into his knees next to him.   
“It’s gonna be okay.” Jack said, reaching out and grabbing the back of Mac’s neck to let him know Jack was still there. “We’re going to figure this out. Get the PTSD under control and then figure out something for that big brain of yours to do. Mattie says she’s got a couple of ideas, but we’ll see. Maybe you can just build stuff for me to take apart just to annoy you.”   
He kept chattering until the tension in Mac’s neck lifted and the kid leaned against him, shaking ever so slightly.   
“You and me, we’re gonna be fine.” Jack said. “Bozer and Riley too. Everybody’s going to be just fine, bud.”   
“Jack…” Mac mumbled.   
“Yeah, bud?” Jack said, surprised to hear Mac’s voice outside of speech therapy.   
“Him… He’s… Um, Jack… He’s not…” Mac said.   
“Yeah, bud. He’s not coming back.” Jack said, forcing calmness into his voice. They had caught Mac’s shooter months ago, but Mac’s PTSD made him worry the man was coming back to hurt him or his family, no matter how many times Jack assured him the man was in some nameless hole in Siberia, thanks to Mattie Webber.   
“Okay.” Mac said.   
Silence ensued for several minutes.   
“Jack?”   
“Yeah, bud?”   
“I…He’s not… He can’t…”   
“No, he can’t break out.” Jack said, squeezing Mac’s neck a little. “You’re safe, I’m safe, Bozer’s safe, Riley’s safe, everybody’s safe, okay?”  
Mac nodded and pressed his face into his knees, jerking back up a second later when Jack’s phone rang. Jack held the device up for Mac to see before answering.   
“Hey, Boze.” Jack said. “We just-.”   
“Get out of the house.” Bozer interrupted. “Intel thinks Murdoc is in Los Angeles and headed Mac’s way.”   
Jack popped to his feet, scanning the room as though Murdoc might be hiding in the corner.   
Not out of the realm of possibility actually.   
“Gotcha.” He said. “ETA?”   
“He arrived yesterday, so…”   
Jack swallowed a string of curse words and hung up. Mac stared at him with wide eyes and a frown from the couch.   
“That was the doc. Something went wrong with your scans and we gotta head to Phoenix to redo-.”   
“Bozer.” Mac cut in with a glare. Jack sighed and nodded.   
“We need to go.” He said, hating the way Mac flinched away from Jack when he stretched out his hand to help Mac to his feet.  
Predictably, Mac shook his head.   
“This is not a discussion.” Jack said and Mac’s head snapped up, eyes burning.   
“Never…. Discussion!” He growled. “You… Decision… Never ask!”   
Shit.  
Jack knew this argument was long overdue, but somehow, Mac picked the worst times to fight with Jack.   
“Okay, I hear you, but-.”   
“No!” Mac said. “Not listening!”   
Jack’s jaw tightened.  
He couldn’t tell Mac Murdoc was on the way without inciting a massive panic attack that would slow them down, but he couldn’t keep arguing with the kid either.   
“Either you start moving on your own or I carry you out the door.” He said. Mac’s face burned, probably because he knew Jack could and would drag Mac out the door like a toddler throwing a tantrum.   
Which was probably exactly why he untucked his legs, crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at Jack as a silent challenge.   
Jack swore and Mac had to subdue a flinch.   
“Mac, I’m serious…” Jack said, trailing off as a musical knock followed by the front door slamming into the wall behind it echoed through his ears.   
When Jack swore this time, Mac didn’t bother trying to hide his flinch.   
“Jack?” He said, staring at the front hallway as heavy footsteps thundered through the house. “Not…”   
“Yeah, it’s him.” Jack said, placing himself between Mac and the front door while texting Mattie. “Now, I need you to listen to me. When I say run, you get your skinny ass off the couch and run like hell.”   
“With you.” Mac said and Jack glanced over his shoulder to find a familiar stubbornness in his friend’s face, lit up by an all-too-familar glare that dared him to disagree.   
Jack grinned.   
“Of course.” He said. “I’m too much of a helicopter parent to let you out of my sight until you’re at least forty. Probably fifty, to be honest.”   
“That is…” Murdoc said, poking his head around the corner to grin at them. “Adorable.”   
“Fuck off.” Jack said, wondering if he could grab the gun he had hidden under the kitchen sink somehow. Mac couldn’t handle seeing guns anymore and since they were both out of the spy business, Jack didn’t carry one on him anymore.   
He just strategically hid them in places he knew Mac wouldn’t find them.  
Helicopter parenting took a lot of planning after all.   
“I am wounded, Jack.” Murdoc said, prancing into the family room and stopping just a few feet in front of him. “And yet, surprised… No gun to shoot me with?”   
“Give me yours and I’ll gladly do it.” Jack said.   
But Murdoc just peered around at him at Mac, who was already trembling and rocking back and forth with his eyes shut.   
“Oh, Mac-Gyver?” He said. “Won’t you say hello to your favorite killer?”   
Jack bristled when Mac didn’t make a snarky response.  
“Hmm…” Murdoc said, turning to grin at Jack and drawing a gun out of his waistband. “He really is brain-damaged. When I heard the terrible news that Boy Genius here was no longer a real genius, I thought ‘Great! It’ll be like shooting a fish in a barrel!’ And then I thought…”   
Jack tensed.   
“About all the fun we could have before I kill him. At this point, taking him out just isn’t… Exciting enough.” Murdoc finished with a sigh and a shrug.   
“So, what’s the plan?” He said. “Shoot me and then torture him?”   
Jack just needed to keep Murdoc distracted long enough for Mattie to call the cavalry in and then-.  
“Matilda didn’t get your text, I’m afraid.” Murdoc said and then nodded at Jack’s phone.   
Jack looked down and swore at the ‘Message Did Not Send’ alert on his home screen.   
“I have friends, now Jackie boy. Ones who can mess with things like that.” Murdoc said with a grin. “But while we do have time, we don’t have forever. So, Jack, I’ll need you to grab two chairs, please.”   
Jack rolled his eyes and Murdoc pointed his gun at Mac’s head.   
“I did say please.” He said.   
Jack suppressed a shiver and did what he was told.   
“Sit.” Murdoc said and Jack moved to help Mac into the chair, pausing only when he felt the muzzle of the gun press into his skull.   
“He’s shaking bad enough that he’ll need help getting from the couch to the chair.” Jack growled and the gun removed itself.   
Mac didn’t look at him when Jack approached, just kept rocking and muttering to himself, hands curling and uncurling at his side.   
“Bud, I need you to stand up for a sec.” Jack said.   
“Thinking.” Mac murmured. “Time…”   
“Okay, well, unless you got a plan in the next ten seconds, I still need you to stand up.” Jack said.   
“Ten seconds and counting.” Murdoc sang behind him. “Ten…”  
“Nine.” Mac muttered, eyes still shut.   
“Eight.” Murdoc said. “I assure you, MacGyver, you don’t want me to hit zero.”   
Mac reached forward, snagged the remote off the table with shaking hands, and dug his pocket knife out. Meanwhile, Murdoc laughed.   
“Oh goodie! Boy Genius does it again!” He cried. “Let’s see what he builds, shall we? In the remains seven, oh wait, six seconds, what can Boy Brain-Damaged create?”   
Jack had no idea what Mac was building and braced to launch himself at Murdoc to buy Mac some time.   
“Wait.” Mac murmured and Jack froze. Mac had several wires plucked out of the remote and was twisting them together.   
“Five seconds!” Murdoc called and Mac paused to shake his hands out, but they were trembling too badly for him to work.   
“Mac, tell me what to do and I’ll build it.” Jack said.   
“Time.” Mac said.   
“Four seconds!” Murdoc said.   
“Talk.” Mac said and then blinked at Jack when the other man didn’t stat chattering.   
“Okay.” Jack said. “I’m sorry I don’t listen to you anymore, bud.”   
Mac took a deep breath and his hands settled down.   
“Three!” Murdoc said and Jack glanced over his shoulder to see him grinning at Jack with the gun aimed at Jack’s head.   
Great.   
“I know you’re a big boy and you can take care of yourself… You just don’t, sometimes.” Jack continued. “And nothing that’s happened to you is fair and I don’t want to treat you unfairly either, but I need you alive, okay? And in that stupid bank…”   
“Two!”   
“Man,” Jack took a deep breath. “I thought you were dead and I pretty much died right then too.”   
Mac froze and glanced up at him.   
“Jack.” He said.   
“Yeah, bud?” Jack said.   
“Your phone… Call Mattie.” Mac said before handing Jack the dismantled remote control and launching himself at Murdoc. The gun went off and Jack rolled out of the way. He forced himself not to check on Mac, not to make sure the lack of screaming behind him was because Mac was kicking Murdoc’s ass, because Mac built Jack something to use to save them with shaking hands and his worst nightmare standing in his living room with a gun aimed at their heads. So no, Jack was not going to waste this opportunity being a goddamn helicopter parent.   
“Mattie, Murdoc is here!” Jack yelled into his phone, miraculously capable again, once she picked up on the other end and then tossed the phone on the ground to spin around when Murdoc started laughing.   
Murdoc had Mac against the wall, both hands around his neck and Mac’s blood staining his hands from Mac’s now crooked nose. And he was laughing while Mac squirmed and clawed at his hands, trying to break free.   
Jack searched for the gun, but couldn’t find it, so he settled for the nearest lamp and charged at Murdoc.   
Unfortunately, Murdoc let go of Mac and dodged out of the way at the last second before plucking the gun out of his waistband and aiming it at Jack’s face. Mac slumped against the floor, gasping for air.   
“Boy Genius doesn’t look too good, Jackie Boy.” Murdoc said.   
“Mac?” Jack said, spinning on one foot.   
Mac blinked up at him with clear, blue eyes, hands clutching the bullet hole in his gut.   
Sirens echoed, so close but too far, way too far, and Jack could only hear Mac’s ragged, wet breathing.   
“No, no, no…” He said, not even thinking about the gun Murdoc had on him and dropped to his knees next Mac, pressing against the wound and making Mac jerk away from him.   
“I’m sorry, but you need to let me keep pressure on this wound.” Jack said, wondering if he had said the same thing in Puerto Rico.   
Mac tried to say something, but blood spilled out over his lips instead.   
“Shit, shit, shit.” Jack said.   
“Mac’s father gives him his best wishes.” Murdoc commented, but Jack ignored him even though Mac’s eyes widened.   
But Jack did flinch at the final gunshot and glanced over his shoulder when he didn’t notice any pain in his body outside the hole in his chest, screaming at Mac to stay alive, stay alive. Murdoc’s face was a mess of brains and blood.   
“Don’t worry about it right now, Mac.” Jack said under the thunder of sirens. “Just focus on breathing, okay?”   
Mac nodded, but his chest wasn’t moving right and Jack could hear the blood building in his lungs.   
“You’re going to be just fine, okay?” Jack said, wondering where the hell the paramedics were.   
Then, Mac’s chin thumped against his chest and Jack screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

True to form, Jack was there when Mac woke up screaming.   
“Bud, you’re okay.” Jack said, batting aside the punch Mac threw at him and then offering a sympathetic smile when Mac’s chest jerked up and down as he struggled to breathe. Mac tried to wipe the sweat away with his hand, but something kept it down and he flinched, jerking his arm away. He needed to get away, get away, get away, get-.  
“Mac!”   
Jack’s shout brought Mac’s attention back to his partner and he struggled to breathe while Jack reached over with a tissue in his hand and pressed it against the blood seeping out of Mac’s arm. He blinked at the wound, trying to remember what he did.   
“It’s just the IV, man.” Jack said.  
Mac nodded and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. But the pain in his stomach chilled his bones and the sterile smell of the hospital room made it so much worse.   
“Mac, you’re okay.” Jack said and Mac nodded, feeling Jack gripping his hand, but that didn’t stop the tremors running through Mac’s spine. He needed to slow down, that’s what Jack would say, but Jack didn’t have pain throbbing in his stomach or the feeling of wanting to scream and beg for help, but not being fucking able to. Or of having so many fucking thoughts in his head, demanding to be released, but not being able to express any of them in a timely manner and damn, his stomach hurt and-.  
“I’m going to call the nurse to get you some pain meds.” Jack said, but didn’t move. Probably because he knew Mac’s eyes would snap open so he could frantically shake his head at Jack.  
“No.” He said.   
“You’re shaking and sweating from pain.” Jack said.   
“No.” Mac repeated.  
“You can’t get better and get outta here if you don’t deal with it.” Jack said.   
“No.”   
Jack sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.   
“They aren’t going to hurt ya, Mac.” He said.   
Liar, Mac thought. And then had to shake his head to clear that thought away.   
Jack wouldn’t lie. Wouldn’t intentionally try to hurt him.   
Unless he was sick of taking care of Mac.   
Then, maybe he would-.  
“Mac, I’m gettin’ worried about you.” Jack interrupted Mac’s thoughts. “What’s going on in your head?”   
Mac shrugged and then sighed when Jack just gave hm a look.   
“Pills.” He said, blushing and looking away.   
But Jack didn’t sigh or complain about Mac’s endless paranoia surrounding medicine.   
“Okay.” He said. “Let’s talk it through. Why am I trying to poison you?”   
Mac shut his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Jack.   
“Tired.” He said. “Me.”   
Jack’s grip on his hand tightened just a little.   
“Okay.” He said. “But you know I’m not leaving, right? That I want to be here or at your place or wherever? I’m stickin’ with you.”   
Mac knew he should nod because Jack had told him a billion times he wasn’t leaving, he wasn’t going to get sick of helping Mac and then hurt him, he was staying.   
He shrugged.   
“Hard.” He said. “Brain… Tricky.”   
Jack offered a half-smile.   
“Yeah, that brain of yours can be a real bitch sometimes.” He said and Mac couldn’t help grinning. “But it ain’t always bad. It’s gotten us out of some pretty tight spots and it’s gonna get us outta this one too, alright?”   
Mac nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but it hurt and he ended up curled on his side with tears leaking out of his eyes. Someone was screaming and he didn’t know if it was him or not until Jack’s hand on his face tightened.   
“Can’t you give him something?” He growled. “The kid’s gonna pass out from pain!”   
Someone tried to grab Mac’s arm but he jerked it away and then screamed again when his stomach protested.   
“Mac, buddy, just stay still, okay?” Jack said, rubbing Mac’s face with his thumb. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s gonna pass. Just hold still.”   
Medicine.   
They were going to give him medicine to stop his breathing.   
He tried to move, to escape, but his stomach kept screeching and forcing its screams out of Mac’s own throat. Then tears burned his face and something burned his neck and he knew.   
“Jack!” He said, cracking his eyes open so he could look at his friend. “Jack, help!”   
Jack crouched in front of him, keeping one hand on his face.   
“You’re okay, Mac.” He said. “It’s safe, just breathe.”   
“No… Not safe, Jack.”   
Mac knew the medicine wasn’t safe. He knew the same way he knew force equals mass times acceleration and the chemical makeup of dish soap.   
“Jack!” He said when Jack didn’t move, didn’t try to save Mac. “Jack, please!”   
But Jack shook his head and looked so close to crying Mac wondered if Jack had organized this for Mac’s own good.   
Like putting down an old dog.   
“Bud, it’s okay. Just breathe. You’ll be fine in a few minutes.” He said.   
Mac shook his head, but his neck wouldn’t listen to his brain. It was too tired. He was too tired and he tried so damn hard to keep his eyes open. He even opened his mouth to yell for Jack again, but the words never left his broken mind.


End file.
